If I could sum up life in District 12 using just one word, it would be this: fucktardish.

Well, maybe hungry would be more appropriate. Hungry, always fucking hungry. Every waking moment is full of thoughts about food, and where I can get enough. When I am fortunate enough to have food in my mouth, I am full of anxiety about when I will next eat again. But worse than that is the guilt and fear that Ginny has not had enough.

At the young age of seventeen, I find myself a mother to my little sister. I am all she has. My brothers - former tributes - are all dead. My parents both died of hunger a long time ago, both of whom would sacrifice their rations just to keep me and my sister alive. When Mother died first, two years ago, I watched as my heartbroken father buried her in the backyard. And when I found him dead in his bed less than a year later, I buried him next to Mother with the help of my best friend, Harry Potter.

"Good fertiliser, that," Harry chuckled as he nudged the freshly dug mound of soil with the toe of his boot.

I punched him in the arm. "Shut up you fucktard. That's my dad!"

"Yeah well at least you knew your parents," Harry shrugged, his face darkening.

Harry was orphaned before he could even wipe the drool off his chin thanks to the Hunger Games. James and Lily Potter - just eighteen year old newlyweds when they were selected as tributes.

They never came back.

They never did.

Well - apart from that old drunk, Haymitch Abernathy - the only living surviving tribute of District 12.

Apparently, 74 years ago the thirteen districts of Panem did something to piss off the Capitol - I don't know, fought for their independence or some shit. So, to safeguard their future, the people of the Capitol get to watch a bunch of district kids fight to the death for their entertainment on a yearly basis.

It helps them heal, helps them to knit their community back together.

Fucktards.

*****

Thanks to Harry's parents carking it, he was brought up by his loathsome greedy aunt and uncle: Petunia and Vernon Mellark: District 12's beastly bakers.

Their son, Peeta, their only child, appears nothing like them. At the age of eighteen, he is a year older than Harry and me. Unlike his loud mouthed parents, he is quiet and brooding - I have heard not one single word pass his lips, even though I have often felt his eyes on me whenever I've passed the bakery.

I don't think he likes me very much. Well... except for that one time a few years back in winter when he tossed me a loaf of blackened bread as I walked by shivering and starving in the street. However, I had gotten the feeling that it was to keep me quiet after I had witnessed his mother whacking him over the head with a baguette for burning the bread.

Quickly tucking the offering beneath my shirt before his parents could see, I had thanked him with a nod before hurrying home to Ginny, sharing the bread with her, grateful to survive another winter's day.

To this day, I have never told Harry about what his cousin had done, I feel like he doesn't like to talk about Peeta much. There is definitely some resentment brewing there.

I don't question it.

*****

The reaping is fast approaching. It is felt amongst us. The already gloomy District 12 sinks further into depression. Twelve through to eighteen year olds all losing sleep over the fear of being selected.

Including my sister.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

I open my eyes and sigh heavily. For fuck's sake, not again.

"Shhh, Gin," I soothe, trying to rouse my thrashing sister from her nightmares. "It's just a dream. You're safe. I'm here. You're safe."

Ginny's eyes fly open with wild panic as I mop her sweaty forehead. She immediately stops writhing, sits up and flings her arms around my neck, sobbing.

"It was me," she sobs, her skinny body trembling as I stroke her long red hair. "They said my name."

"It's okay, you won't be picked, Gin," I assure her, gently rocking her. "It's your first year. Your name is only in it once. I promise, you won't be picked."

Settling her back down, I decide to grab my foraging bag and escape to the Forbidden Forest. I vow to try my hardest to get in a good kill so I can at least leave Ginny with some provisions in case I am picked at the reaping.

Harry hates it when I kill, preferring to forage for berries and greens instead. But if I don't get some decent meat, Ginny and I will surely starve to death just like my parents did. I cannot rely on his cousin to accidentally burn the bread again. I cannot rely on anyone but myself to provide for me and my sister.

The sun has barely risen as I make my way to the boundaries, sneaking through a gap in the not so electric fence and not stopping until I reach the sanctuary of the forest where I retrieve the bow and sheath of arrows my father made for hunting.

Almost at once I spy a deer. I have never killed something that big before, but this morning I have a good feeling about it, especially as it would get me a good haul at the Hob.

Just as I draw back the bow and aim, a noise behind me makes me jump.

"What exactly are you going to do with that?!"

At Harry's voice, I release the arrow too soon, completely missing the deer and alerting it to my presence. It runs off. Too late.

Angry, I whirl around, about to call Harry a fucktard, when I freeze. For the look on his face is so incredibly sad and so forlorn.

"Forty-two," he chokes, his voice barely a whisper, "my name's been entered forty-two times this year."

My mouth falls open as I lower my bow. "Forty-two? Harry... how?!"

"I needed food," he says, running a hand through his thick dark hair, "my aunt and uncle refuse to feed me. And the forest only provides so much nutrition."

"But Harry - there are other ways!" I gesture around the forest where food is a plenty during the right time of year if you are just willing to kill.

"You know I hate meat." Harrys says, scrunching up his nose. "And besides, it doesn't save us in the winter months when the forest is derelict."

Frustrated, I raise my bow, wheel around, and aim fifty feet up into a tree where a squirrel sits. I shoot and catch it straight through the eye. As soon as I hear it hit the ground, I stride over to it, retrieve my arrow and stuff the dead rodent into my forage bag.

When I look back up at Harry, his face has turned a sickly shade of green. "You're not seriously going to eat that?"

I shrug. "Why not? Tastes alright grilled with a bit of thyme."

Harry goes to smile, but then seems to hesitate. Awkwardly, he rubs a hand at the back of his neck as he shuffles his feet.

"Just spit it out, Harry," I snap with impatience. I can tell there is something he wants to say and I do not have much time if I want to make a decent kill before the reaping.

"I've been thinking long and hard." Harry says, his voice tight. "Trying to strategize a plan in my brain. I have this feeling, this horrible dark feeling that today I'm going to be picked for the Games."

I open my mouth to argue, but he lifts up his hand to silence me.

"Please, Ronnie, let me say this." He stops to take a deep breath, his green eyes not quite meeting mine. "If I go to the Games, I need a reason to survive - a reason to come back."

My heart sinks. I think I know where this is going. Harry and I have been friends for a long time. He is a handsome boy, and most of the girls at school want him, perhaps even some of the boys, too. But there has never been anything romantic between us. His companionship means the world to me though, and he is the closest person to me in this district other than Ginny. But I never thought he liked me in that way.

Until now.

"Ronnie, would you- uh-" His voice wobbles so much that he has to pause and swallow. "Would you marry me if I come back?"

The bow loudly clutters down to the ground at my feet. If a bear was to jump out of the trees right now, we would be goners for sure.

Harry steps forward and takes my hands in his, his green eyes wide with a sudden hope. "I love you, Ronnie. I've loved you for a long time. You must know that?"

Shocked, I let go of his hands and step back. "Love?" I splutter, laughing incredulously. "You have time to think about love? Harry - all my efforts, all my energy - goes into thinking about mine and Ginny's next meal. Why the fuck do you think I'm out here, risking my life like this? I'm not trying to kill deer for fun - I'm killing to survive!"

His face instantly falls and I can see I have crushed him with my words. I feel really bad, but I also feel angry at him for asking this of me. The chances are we will both survive today, and then what? This fucktard has effectively ruined our friendship.

"I can't go on in, not knowing I have a reason to survive," he says quietly, dropping his gaze to the ground. "And you, Ronnie Weasley, are my reason to live."

I look away, unable to bear the sadness on my best friend's face. I care about him, I really do. In fact, I suddenly realise, I care about him enough to want to give him a reason to survive.

"Harry," I say gently, reaching out to touch his elbow, "of course I want you to come back to me."

Quite suddenly, he pulls me into the fiercest hug, taking the wind from my lungs as he wraps his arms around me and holds me tightly against him. I hesitate for a moment, and then I hug him back.

"Thank you, Ronnie," he murmurs, his voice thick as he presses his face in my hair, "This means everything to me. Thank you."

I can feel his heart racing beneath his chest, feel his fear that I was going to say no. But I realise there is something he must know, something that I will never, ever compromise on.

"I can't-" I gasp, trying hard to draw breath. "I won't have children. Not here - ever. You need to know that."

"I understand," Harry says, finally releasing me enough to cup a hand to my cheek, looking down at me with such a tender expression, "I get it, I do. We wouldn't want to put them through this life. I just need you. Only you."

My heart squeezes. I don't feel right about this conversation. But it does sound like Harry's odds are stacked very much against him today. And if I am able to give him hope, then I will do so. I owe him that much.

Besides, it's not as though he's likely to survive.

And I also have a request for him.

"If I'm picked," I say. "Then I ask that you promise to look after Ginny for me. I need to know that someone is looking out for her. I need you to promise me that that someone will be you. That when I am gone, you will feed and nurture her like she is your own little sister."

Harry instantly nods, a small smile flickering at his lips but his eyes full of sincerity. "Of course I promise, Ronnie. But believe me when I say you won't be picked. I just know you are safe. I can feel it."

Sighing, he rests his forehead down on mine, tucking my hair behind my ears.

I close my eyes. "We'll see."

"I love you Ronnie Weasley," Harry murmurs, ardently. "I love you so much."

My chest is tight. Just like my smile.

******

Ginny throws her arms around me as soon as I step back inside the shack we call a home.

"Oh Ronnie, you were gone so long!" She sobs burying her face in my top and soaking it with her tears. "I thought- I thought I wouldn't get to see you before the reaping."

"Shhh, Gin," I murmur, stroking her back. "I was just getting some supplies. Here, look-"

I pull away from her and retrieve from my forage bag three small squirrels, throwing them down onto the kitchen table.

"This should sort you out for a few days," I say, not quite meeting her eyes, "just make sure to keep them in the larder so they don't go off too quickly."

Ginny's eyes fill with tears. Her bottom lip trembles.

"Don't- don't talk like that, Ronnie," she says shakily, "I couldn't bear it if you went."

"I've asked Harry to look after you." I say in a deadpan voice, desperate not to show her how terrified I am. "And you must let him. You will both need each other."

Ginny throws her hands up, pressing them against her ears. "Stop! Stop talking like this! I won't let them take you!"

Sadly, I shake my head. "You won't have a choice once I'm selected. I'll be in the Capitol's custody. Failure to comply is not an option."

She continues to weep as I help her get dressed into her best and only skirt and blouse. I had made the effort to give them a good clean the day before. Dressing up for the reaping is mandatory despite no one in the district wanting to waste materials and effort on 'pretty' clothes. Not when we are all trying not to starve to death.

"Tuck your tail in, little duck," I say, smoothing her blouse back in place from where it has pulled out of her skirt at the back.

I myself get changed into the blue dress that was once my mother's reaping dress. I stare at myself in the dirty, cracked mirror as I carefully braid my long, red hair and pin it up.

The vain part of me is proud of what I see: defiance and beauty. I will not let the bastards grind me down. I will take whatever they throw at me, just as long as they do not come at my sister.

We walk to the town square in silence. Ginny squeezes my hand so tight, I fear she will cut off the circulation. But I do not mind. I don't let go. Not once.

Well, not until we reach the signing in station.

"A NEEDLE?!" Ginny wails, shaking so much that I fear she will faint. "BUT I HATE BLOOD!"

Damn, this girl would be lucky to last five seconds in the Hunger Games.

"Ginny, calm down," I hiss, crouching down in front of her to give her a shake. "You need to pull yourself together before the Peacekeepers step in."

"Is everything alright?"

A hand goes to my shoulder. I look up to see that Harry has stepped up behind me, his expression grave.

"No," I confess, standing up as Ginny begins to loudly wail and hyperventilate. "I don't know how I can get her through this."

"Here, let me," Harry says, reaching out to take Ginny's hand. "Come, Ginny. It'll be okay, just a small scratch, I promise. I need you to be brave for your sister. Can you do that for me, please?"

Her eyes sparkle up at him through long teary eyelashes. For the first time that morning, she smiles. Harry has calmed her and I feel relief wash over me.

I stand up, giving Harry a grateful nod. "I'll come and find you after, okay?" I say to Ginny, giving her one last fierce hug.

I watch as Harry leads Ginny towards the tables, my heart squeezing at the smallness of her, looking much younger than her twelve years.

A numbness descends over me as I sign in, placing myself amongst the older of the children, having lost sight of both Ginny and Harry.

Anger swirls in my stomach as that weirdo, Effie Trinket, takes to the stage, and I have to look away because her unnaturally bright colourful appearance literally hurts my eyes.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

Just get it the fuck over with, I think, when they begin to show us some paraphernalia crap about war, terrible war, on the television monitors mounted in the square.

My gaze meets the eyes of the ashy blonde haired boy stood next to me. At first I do not recognise him, but when he nods his head in acknowledgement, I instantly realize that this is Harry's cousin, Peeta Mellark.

Never having stood this close to him before, I am surprised at how much stockier he is than Harry. Broad shouldered from lifting all those sacks of flour, and slightly taller, too. His blue eyes are kind, and instantly fill me with warmth.

I open my mouth, wanting to thank him for the time he tossed me the bread, but before I can make a sound, I am interrupted by Effie announcing the time for selection.

"As usual, ladies first," she giggles, stepping over to a large glass bowl full of folded paper slips.

The district seems to hold a collective breath, and I feel sick with anticipation. Peeta's arm lightly brushes against mine and I realise, with a surprise, that he has moved closer to me. This gesture brings me comfort and I'm suddenly so grateful that he is here next to me despite not having ever exchanged a single word with this boy before.

Fear swirls in my stomach as Effie clears her throat, ready to read out the name on the piece of paper she has just unfolded.

Not me, please not me.

"GINERVA WEASLEY!"

Well, fuck me.

******